Let Me be Your Shield
by RealityXIllusion
Summary: He knew they thought he was an idiot, and he knew they'd always underestimate him, even Virgil. He didn't care though, he was to use to people treating him like he was one growing up. He knew he wasn't the smartest person in the world but he most certainly wasn't the dumbest. He didn't know what he was, but one thing that could definitely be used to describe him was; Protective.


_**Let Me be Your Shield**_

Disclaimer:I do not own any of the Ocean's movies nor do I own Scott Caan and Brad Pitt

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He knew they thought he was an idiot, and he knew they'd always underestimate him, even Virgil. He didn't care though, he was to use to people treating him like he was one growing up. He knew he wasn't the smartest person in the world but he most certainly wasn't the dumbest.

He didn't know what he was, but one thing that could definitely be used to describe him was; Protective. The thing is, nobody ever realizes how far he's willing to go just to make sure everyone's safe, and even happy if he was being honest.

During the heist with Benedict, no one noticed how he made sure to keep an eye on all of them whenever he was able. Or how he was the one who always made sure to leave food or drinks around for everyone. Or how when everyone passed out in the main room, he had carried each of them to their own beds or if he was to tired then he made sure to grab pillows and blankets for them. They don't notice how he stays up for nights on end before a heist worrying about how it could all go wrong, then going over everything all over again to make sure he won't fail them.

It seems the ones who need looking after the most besides his brother is Danny and Rusty.

It was two years after the Benedict heist that he saw Rusty again.

He stayed with Virgil for a week or two after leaving Las Vegas but since then he's been on his own. It's certainly been an interesting two years, not just because of the millions he has stored away but because of all the adventures he finds himself getting into.

He'd been walking down the street when he first head what sounded like yelling. Despite knowing that whatever was going on was probably none of his business, he had a feeling that if he just kept on walking then he'd regret it for the rest of his life.

Sighing under his breath, he sped up his pace to get closer to the sounds of yelling. As he got closer he realized he could hear grunts and choked off gasping as well. Practically running now, his feet lead him towards the alleyway next to some type of run down bar. Slowly walking into the alleyway he kept to the shadows, which wasn't to hard thanks to his small frame. From where he stood, he could see three men huddled together, each of them kicking at something on the ground between them. Then the thing on the ground groaned and some of the lighting from the street revealed that thing was actually a blonde haired person.

It wasn't until the blonde haired person happened to look up towards him that he realized what made him feel so uneasy and angry about the situation.

It was Rusty.

Any type of anger or frustration he's felt before was nothing compared to how he felt in that very moment watching Rusty's face contort into a pain filled grimace as the men continued to kick him repeatedly. Without even realizing what he was going, he flung himself forward tackling the largest man away from Rusty.

"What the fuck!"

He quickly straddled the man's hips and launched blow after blow to the man's jaw. Takin grim satisfaction in the way his head snapped from one side to the other side.

"Gerroff!"

He felt the air rush out of him as someone tackled him to the ground, his head smacking against the concrete left him a bit lightheaded but he knew he couldn't stop now. He risked glancing over towards where he last saw Rusty and one look at how scared the man actually looked caused him to push to get back to his feet.

He didn't hesitate in swinging his arm back and using his height to his advantage. He aimed right for the guy who'd tackled him, and punched him in the throat.

"You fuckin' son of a bitch." The man wheezed.

He didn't give him a chance to react. He kicked out at the man's knees, grinning as one gave way clearly going the wrong way and causing the mans knee to lock up. Too busy keeping his eyes on the two men in front of him, he completely forgot about the third one until something connected with the side of his head, causing him to fall to his knees and fight to stay upward.

Glancing at the third man's hand revealed a shattered beer bottle in his hands. Quickly getting back to his feet and only stumbling a bit, he hurried to jump on the back of the man who's knee he caused to lock up and wrapped an arm around his neck. The man walked backwards slamming him against the brick wall which made his vision darken around the edges for a moment.

"Get off of him!" The man with the broken beer bottle snarled. His eyes snapped up to stare at the man but he didn't loosen his hold around the other man's neck, instead he tightened it. He was shocked to see Rusty standing up behind the man with the beer bottle and holding something above his head. Which he then brought crashing down against the beer bottle man's head. Immediately the man went down, either unconscious or dead from that blow to the head.

He felt the man in his arms go slack as the lack of oxygen finally caught up to him, knocking him unconscious. Panting he looked around to se that the third man who he had gone after first was no where to be seen, then he looked towards Rusty to see him staring at him with wide eyes.

He eyed the way Rusty was hunched over with one arm cradling his ribcage protectively, "You okay?" When Rusty continued to stare at him he found himself briefly worrying about him having a concussion. Forcing himself to stand up straight and only hesitating in walking when he felt the world around him tilting, he let it pass before striding up to Rusty and grabbing his arm.

"Let's get out of here. Did you drive?"

Silently Rusty shook his head.

"So you walked then? How far away is where you're staying?"

"...Not far."

"Alright, lead the way." He kept his grip tight on Rusty's arm and guided him out of the alleyway, "Which way?"

Instead of walking any further once the were on the sidewalk, Rusty was staring at him once again, "What? Why're you staring at me?"

"You're bleeding."

"What?"

"You're head is bleeding!"

Reaching up to feel around his head, he winced when his fingers touched something wet and stinging going from just above his ear to mid-forehead. Bringing his fingers back down to look at them he was startled to see them coated in blood. "Oh...explains the dizziness than." Shrugging he looked at Rusty and said, "Forget about it. You need to get home, probably see a doctor if those bruises on your face are any indication."

"You're the one who needs to see a doctor..." Rusty muttered but started leading the way down the street. towards his apartment he'd been renting for the past month. They walked mostly in silence with Rusty occasionally looking over at him but not saying anything. Rusty was right though, his apartment wasn't too far, they only walked for the better part of two or three minutes.

"Apartment 17A." Rusty said gesturing down the hall.

He waited until they were inside the apartment before asking Rusty where the first aid kit was.

"The apartment came with one, so check the bathroom, I'll check the kitchen?" Rusty suggested, moving off towards what was clearly the kitchen.

He walked off towards what he thought was the bathroom but was actually a closet, he didn't know why Rusty thought he'd know where the bathroom was when he'd never been in his apartment before. Letting out a loud sigh of frustration he closed the door to what was apparently the pantry and decided to try opening one more door.

Thankfully this one was the bathroom. Opening cabinet after cabinet, he finally found the first aid kit under the sink, risking a glance at his reflection caused him to wince when he saw the amount of blood covering the right side of his face, still dripping down onto the collar of his shirt, "Damn-it..."

"Hey did you find-" He watched as Rusty paused in the doorway to the bathroom, their eyes meeting in the mirror.

"I found it. Sit down on the toilet." He picked up the first aid kit and turned just in time to see Rusty sit down on top of the toilet lid. In the silence that engulfed the room he kneeled down in front of the man and worked quickly but efficiently in cleaning any cuts marring Rusty's skin before coating it in antibiotic cream and putting a bandage over it, whispering apologies every time he saw Rusty wince. Despite Rusty's protests he managed to get the man to lift his shirt high enough for him to poke around to see if anything was broken or cracked.

Thankfully Rusty only had some pretty bad bruising and a couple of scraps which were all cleaned and none needed any stitching.

"All done." He said quietly standing up straight, only to grab onto Rusty's shoulder to keep from falling over. Suddenly Rusty is standing and he finds himself sitting on the toilet now with Rusty crouched down in front of him.

"Hey, hey come on keep your eyes open."

He wasn't even aware he'd shut them so instead he murmurs, "M'fine. Just a head'che."

In front of him Rusty still before his face clouds over with anger, he can't help but note this is the most he's ever seen emotions displayed on Rusty's face.

"Just a headache? You're head is still bleeding!"

"Head wounds bleed a lot."

"You're an idiot. Damn-it! I'm calling Stan, he'll be here soon." Rusty disappears from his line of sight.

Dimly he's aware of Rusty speaking in the background but whatever he's saying was lost on him as he felt himself loosing consciousness.

.

.

.

Waking up hurt more than when he lost consciousness. His head was killing him, the skin around his knuckles felt tight and was stinging and his jaw was feeling sore. Wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep, he shifted as to lay on his side but froze when it caused his head to hurt. Groaning slightly he lifted his hand to feel for a bump on his head which would explain the pain.

"Don't touch it!"

Startled by the sudden tight grip around his wrist caused his eyes to fly open. Rusty was leaning over him and was the one who had grabbed his wrist so tightly.

"...Hurts..."

Rusty sighed, "I know it hurts, you have a mind concussion, your knuckles are scraped to hell and you have a black eye...some bruises too."

He frowned, he knew he was hurt but that wasn't what he meant, "No...you're hurting me."

Rusty looked shocked, "What do you mean?"

"My wrist."

Hastily Rusty let go and he looked at his wrist to see a red hand shaped mark wrapping around it, a strangled like sound caused him to look back over at Rusty who looked both guilty and a bit horrified.

Struggling to sit up, he was stopped by Rusty's hands on his shoulders, gently pushing him back down against what he believed was the couch he saw when Rusty had let him into the apartment.

"Please just...just stay down. Rest. Stan said you need to rest."

Tilting his head to the side he said, "I'm fine...are you okay? Did Stan look you over?"

"Just a couple scrapes and bruises, one bruised rib. That's it." Rusty said still eyeing him as though he were about to jump up and try to dance.

He hummed slightly before letting his eyes slid shut, "M'kay. Go rest." Just as his consciousness was once again leaving him he heard Rusty chuckle and say,

"Thanks...Turk."

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And that is the end to this one shot! I may try writing more moment's where Turk protects one of the others and I'll at it on to here but as for right now this story is completed!


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